She was crying now, her tears mingled with the slashes of rain. Poor Solomon. He’d be so frightened. Gentle and trusting, he wouldn’t understand. She gulped. Drew’s torch beam was occasionally visible on the far side of the stable block. She knew he was heading towards the road again. Just in case. It was a nightmare.

She pushed her way through a tangle of wildly waving wisteria which had been tugged from its mooring by the wind. There were only three boxes in this part of the yard, which was separated from the main block by a five-bar gate. The gate had blown open and was crashing back against the wall with a rhythmic screaming of its hinges. Two of the boxes were empty, she knew. The third had housed Dock of the Bay when he’d first come over from Jersey. She lifted her torch and screamed.

Two huge black eyes blinked at her, showing white crescent moons at their corners. Solomon, his coat streaming, was pressed up against Dock of the Bay’s box, shivering.

She lowered the torch beam and began to speak gently. He backed away from her in terror. She stood still, buffeted by the storm, and held out her hand towards him. In the alternating pitch black and sickly green light, Solomon seemed about three miles high. She swallowed. She’d ridden him, groomed him, told him all her secrets. She wasn’t afraid of him …

Slowly, she edged towards him. His hoofs clattered on the cobbles as he tried to press nearer and nearer to the horse box. Talking all the time, she stretched out her hand and grabbed his head collar. It was stiff and cold, drenched by the rain, and Solomon yanked away from her, almost pulling her arm from its socket. She dropped the torch with a crash and Solomon jumped backwards.

‘Steady, baby … Steady …’

Gradually, he stopped backing away from her, and leaned his great head down, blowing foamy moisture from his nostrils. She wanted to kiss him.

‘Come on …’ she coaxed. ‘You don’t have to stay out here in the cold. You’ve got a nice warm bed around the corner. Come on, baby …’

Solomon’s eyes became less hostile. His muscles relaxed. And slowly he allowed her to tug him forward.

‘Please God,’ she prayed, her eyes tightly shut. ‘Please God, don’t let there be any more thunder or lightning just for a minute.’

There wasn’t. Solomon, still trembling, allowed her to lead him through the creaking gate and back into the main yard, slipping and slithering across the cobbles.

‘Any luck?’ Drew’s voice was tossed on the wind.

She nodded and then laughed at herself. But she didn’t dare shout.

‘Maddy?’ The beam arced through the darkness. ‘Oh, Jesus!’

Drew almost threw himself on her, then prised the icy leather from her numbed fingers. He kissed Solomon but not her.

‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly. ‘Where was he?’